"Well, but it was decided so," said the foreman.
Peter Gerasimovitch began to dispute this, saying that since she
did not take the money it followed naturally that she could not
have had any intention of committing murder.
"But I read the answer before going out," said the foreman,
defending himself, "and nobody objected."
"I had just then gone out of the room," said Peter Gerasimovitch,
turning to Nekhludoff, "and your thoughts must have been
wool-gathering to let the thing pass."
"I never imagined this," Nekhludoff replied.
"Oh, you didn't?"
"Oh, well, we can get it put right," said Nekhludoff.
"Oh, dear no; it's finished."
Nekhludoff looked at the prisoners. They whose fate was being
decided still sat motionless behind the grating in front of the
soldiers. Maslova was smiling. Another feeling stirred in
Nekhludoff's soul. Up to now, expecting her acquittal and
thinking she would remain in the town, he was uncertain how to
act towards her. Any kind of relations with her would be so very
difficult. But Siberia and penal servitude at once cut off every
possibility of any kind of relations with her. The wounded bird
would stop struggling in the game-bag, and no longer remind him
of its existence.